Ripples
by BoomChick
Summary: A gift for KorNaXon. When Cloud makes a different decision in his final battle with Sephiroth, the effects ripple outwards, changing his fate in ways he ever anticipated. Yazoo/Cloud.


**A/N:** This is a gift for the incredible KorNaXon, who can and should be found both on deviantart and tumblr! She draws incredible fanart for FFVII, and even some illustrations for my other fanfictions! Not only can her illustrations be incredibly moving and powerful, but they can also be hysterically funny! I was thrilled to write this piece of Yazoo/Cloud fanfiction for her. She requested a story with the Yazoo/Cloud pairing, and the characters as in-character as possible, so I took it upon myself to change the course of history until I thought that would happen! I hope you all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed putting it together!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own FFVII, or any of its derivative works. Please support the official releases.

Ripples

For the majority of his battle against Sephiroth, Cloud completely forgot that it wasn't really Sephiroth he was fighting. Instinct kicked in. Without it, he'd have been sliced to pieces in moments. His overly analytical brain shut down as he fought, aware that there were things other than his life at stake, but knowing that if he took too long to consider what they were, Sephiroth would rip him to shreds for his inattention. However it was Sephiroth managed to purr veiled threats and mild taunts during the battle, it was a skill of dividing attention that Cloud had never mastered, and had no interest in learning.

It wasn't until after the pain that his brain started to kick in. Not until after he fell, eight new stab wounds bleeding heavily, staining the ground underneath him. Nine, if he counted the wound in his thigh made at the same moment as the thrust aimed through his calf. He shouldn't have let his leg bend while he took the beating. No, he didn't start thinking again until after he looked up to see Sephiroth swooping down on him while he was still trying to stand up. Not until he saw his life flash before his eyes-seeing Aerith, Tifa, Denzel, Marlene, and a strange, sudden flash of silver-an image of the three boys he had been facing for the past few days, on and off as they went about their macabre hunt for Jenova.

And when Zack appeared behind him, speaking teasing words of comfort and encouragement, Cloud let them sink under his skin like a balm. He took the gift that Zack had given him with both hands. The moment to breathe, in a time when otherwise he would have been skewered and killed, was invaluable. When the world started up again, he not only knew what to do next, he knew what was at stake. There was nothing he didn't treasure, so he would protect everything he had left.

It wasn't lightly that he summoned his final attack. It took intense effort, and immense concentration. He waited until the perfect moment, then locked blades with Sephiroth and called on his blade's power. It split under his hands, and he felt the haste spell that lay dormant in him waiting for him to call it. He moved so quickly in this attack that the first time he'd successfully unlocked it, he had just as quickly failed, distracted by the sight of after-images he left of himself.

He struck, over and over. Each blade he gripped, he used for as many strikes as he could before Sephiroth started to gain a handle on the battle, his warrior's instincts almost good enough to keep up with Cloud's ultimate attack. Every time Sephiroth started to shift to guard, Cloud switched to the next sword, and caught up to the warrior from behind once more. With five of his six blades, he assaulted without pause, watching the blue tails he left behind as his blade met leather and flesh over and over.

Finally, Cloud flew upwards and gripped his final blade, and turned. When his eyes met Sephiroth's, a rush of realization and thought rose up in him. Sephiroth was watching him with fear in his eyes, and it reminded Cloud instantly and firmly that this wasn't just his nightmare he was fighting. It was the nightmare-junior too-the avatar of Sephiroth who he had almost reached down to save before he pulled this final trick out of his hat and turned into Cloud's arch nemesis.

And suddenly, Cloud felt doubt. He started moving towards Sephiroth in his Cloud of haste, but there was no spirit in the final strike. He watched pale lips part in surprise and fear as he approached, and tightened his grip on his blade. He'd killed Sephiroth before. More than once. And yet, what good had it done? He always came back, it always ended up worse than before. What good had death done in the face of Sephiroth's evil?

At the very last moment, Cloud pulled his strike. He shifted his blade, and slammed the flat of it into Sephiroth's ribs. He dropped as his spell broke, his swords falling in a circle around him. He caught the final blade out of mid-air, feeling it fit into his hand like it belonged there again. He looked up to see Sephiroth plummet to the roof, impacting almost as hard as Cloud himself had when thrown to the ground. As he fell, the wing wrapped around him and dissolved. By the time the body reached the ground, it was no longer Sephiroth's form.

Cloud watched as Kadaj staggered to his feet in the impact crater on the building's surface. The remnant took two steps to the left, wavering unsteadily. Blood splashed onto the ground at his feet. His hand was clenched on his blade. Blazing, distant eyes glared at Cloud, and the boy took a staggering step forward. Cloud took a step forward as well, but stabbed his blade into the ground. There were streams of smoke-actual smoke-sliding out of the boy's body. Cloud highly doubted that there would be any challenge.

Kadaj tried to swing his blade, and fell forward, crumbling to his knees. Automatically, Cloud caught him as he fell. There was blood under his hand as he braced the kid's back, letting the little avatar gasp for breath in his hold. Bright green eyes stared up at him in a strange awed, dazed look. Cloud looked him over, decided silently that he wasn't dying yet, and shifted his free hand.

"Brother," Kadaj whispered blearily.

Cloud carefully and calmly placed his fingers over the arteries in the boy's neck and pressed lightly, watching him gasp and his green eyes flicker until they rolled back and he lay still in Cloud's arms. Gently, he removed the touch that had rendered the injured boy unconscious. Kadaj shuddered once in his arms, then went still again, still gasping for air, but less panicked in unconsciousness. Cloud allowed himself a moment to breathe.

The wounds inflicted by Masamune burned. His thighs, his shoulders, his arms, and the horribly familiar stab wound in his chest were all slowly healing shut, each millimeter of re-growing skin its own unique agony. Cloud took a deep breath, shifted his other hand under the remnant's knees, and lifted him up. Despite his injuries, he found his legs reasonably steady beneath him. He closed his eyes lightly, letting out a slow breath.

In his arms, he little avatar of Sephiroth was a dense bundle of muscle and bone. The materia embedded in his arm glowed faintly, and he was still smoldering slightly. Cloud huffed out a breath, shaking his head. The smoke smelled like sulfur and mako. He quietly hoped it wasn't a sign of imminent death. He was no physician. And now that he had decided to spare the boy, it would have been depressing to have him die now.

Cloud walked towards the edge of the building, quietly dreading the trek down. He doubted Cid would be able to land the new ship hovering nearby anywhere in the nearest half-mile. He'd have to get off the roof before joining his friends and sitting down for a while. There was a lot of jumping and landing between the top of the building where he stood and flat ground. His thigh burned with discomfort. Even with it healing quickly, he couldn't afford to stall for too long. He would need to start heading down now, while the boy was still unconscious, but could still be saved.

He was stopped dead by the quiet sound of a footstep behind him. He turned just in time to lay eyes on the two brothers hauling themselves to their feet behind him. The middle brother-the slender, beautiful one called Yazoo who had always smiled before during their battles-was snarling softly. There was a gun in his hand, which he lifted smoothly to point at Cloud's heart, despite the brother he held close in his arms. The biggest remnant staggered to his feet behind him, wavering slightly in place.

Both of them were giving off the strange, ugly streams of smoke that kadaj was, all three of them on the edge of falling apart. And yet, Yazoo's gaze was as even and dangerous as ever when his eyes met Cloud's. He held his gun steady, though he could barely stand.

"We'll go together," he rasped, his lips barely moving with the words.

"He's still alive," Cloud heard himself saying without thought, his hands tightening on the limp, heavy body in his arms. "None of you has to die today."

Silence fell over the rooftop, and Cloud watched Yazoo weigh his options, still weaving a little on his feet. Loz staggered forward another step, but not out of aggression. He wouldn't be able to stay upright much longer.

"Give him to us," The remnant demanded after a long moment, wavering on his feet.

"Put down the gun," Cloud warned.

The remnant complied, though whether it was obedience or exhaustion, Cloud wasn't sure. The gun clattered to the ground at his feet, and Cloud let out a quiet breath when it didn't go off on impact. Then he carefully set the youngest remnant down on the roof and backed away a couple of steps, watching the two conscious remounts warily.

He soon realized that he shouldn't have worried. The biggest of them who he quietly suspected was youngest, limped over to Kadaj and dropped down beside him. He pulled his glove off with a shaking hand and touched his smoldering fingers to Kadaj's neck.

He let out a strained, tragic sound as he found his brother's pulse. Tears fell down his cheeks as he pulled his bloody little brother closer, holding onto him even as his own body struggled to continue existing. Cloud looked away as he wrapped his arm around the unconscious remnant, displaying the blazing materia embedded in his arm.

He was startled to find the slender remnant's eyes still fixed on him. The young man staggered briefly to the side, almost falling, but keeping his feet. His lips were parted as he breathed heavily, gazing at him out of eyes that blazed with mako light.

Cloud glanced down to the materia in his arm as well, and gave a little, unconscious shiver. It went against everything he knew about reality. There was no such thing as a way to bond materia to flesh. He swallowed, watching the materia blaze and the remnant flicker.

"Drop the materia," he warned darkly. It wasn't entirely out of concern for his safety that he demanded it. The orbs were still active, drawing strength from their hosts that the hosts no longer had to give.

Yazoo looked down to his own arms, as though just noticing the blazing orbs. He stared at them, wavering, then gave his arms both a sharp shake, as though trying to work out a kink in his muscles. The materia dropped from his arm without a hint of resistance, rolling down the curved top of the building as Yazoo staggered to his knees from the effort.

At Kadaj's side, the biggest brother shook his own arm as well, with less control and grace. He looked rather like he'd noticed a large spider crawling up his shoulder and was attempting to dislodge it. None the less, the materia fell from his arm as well, leaving him shaking and gasping for breath, but altogether whole.

Cloud took a step forward to disable him for the next segment, but stopped as the large remnant slowly toppled sideways, drained from effort. Cloud glanced to the edge of the building as the materia rolled down. The two elder brothers had to have climbed their way up here. And that was _after_ being blown up. He knew from experience that Turk bombs meant business.

In the back of his mind, he suddenly wondered how loudly Yuffie would shriek when she realized that all of her precious materia was now scattered among the newly torn-apart Shinra building. His attention was drawn away from the thought by the sight of the middle remnant yet again trying to climb to his feet, breathing heavily. He braced his hand against his knee, shifting to try and get his feet under him, his eyes fixed on his brothers, who had collapsed together.

After a moment of watching him struggle, Cloud moved over slowly, with measured steps. Each time he put weight on his injured leg, it threatened to buckle, but as of yet, it had not. He kept walking, only stopping when he was directly in front of the remnant. Still, Yazoo did not look at him. He gazed at the other pieces of Sephiroth and fought to stand, to make his way over to them, ignoring the danger that Cloud represented in favor of getting to his brothers' sides.

Cloud hesitated a long moment, quietly impressed by the tenacity of the young man. Then he carefully reached down, taking the remnant's hand firmly in his own. Yazoo halted instantly, frozen in place. Cloud could feel every inch of him trembling with tension and exhaustion as he placed a hand on his back. He held his tongue, not saying a word, and carefully wrapped his arm around the boy, lifting him to his feet by his grip on his hand.

The remnant staggered, but held firm once Cloud had him upright. It was only a few steps to the other two remnants, but they seemed to take a long time. Cloud eased the obviously dying remnant closer, hoping, as he took in the damage from up close, that he could still be saved.

"Why?" A low, unnervingly steady voice asked from Cloud's side.

He turned to find piercing green eyes fixed on him. The remnant was watching him, his head tilted tiredly to one side, sending pale silver hair spilling over his shoulder.

"I don't know," Cloud replied, before carefully easing the boy to his knees beside his brothers.

Yazoo hesitated only a moment on his knees before he too slid to the ground, exhausted and beaten. He curled up just a little, one of his hands on Loz's chest, and the other resting in Kadaj's hair. Cloud could see the moment he fell asleep, his breathing evening out into a steady rasp, blending with the soft breaths of his unconscious siblings.

Cloud stared down at the three broken young men before him, then turned slowly to look at the drop off the building again, letting out a slow, shaking breath. He crouched briefly, feeling it pull at his injuries. With one unconscious passenger, the way down would have been painful. With three, it would be at best damaging, and at worst impossible.

His eyes kept straying to the pretty face of the middle remnant, even as he thought over his options. Perfect lips, parted slightly as he breathed, pale skin starting to lose the strange look of dark smoke under pale glass and regain its natural solid tone. He shifted just a little, long legs pulling inwards as he curled up.

Cloud jerked his eyes away and fiercely reprimanded his brain for even considering the things that had run though his train of thought while watching.

The sound of Cid's airship behind him drew Cloud's attention away. He turned just in time to nearly have a heart attack as two figures leapt off the the top of the ship. He'd already taken two steps forward to race and catch them when he recognized the red cape flowing behind the first figure, and the fact that the second form had four legs. He drooped in relief and mentally scolded himself for not having faith in his friends. He straightened at the quickly approaching thunder of paws on the rooftop, and the soft jingle of Red XIII's mane decorations.

"Cloud!" The Gi called, running up to stand before him. "You're hurt!"

Cloud reached out, placing a hand on Red's head, giving his short hair a brief rub.

"I'm alright. What about the ship? That storm he summoned-"

"Everyone is well," Vincent rumbled as he approached more slowly. "Though the ship will need repairs,"

"No wonder you jumped overboard," Cloud joked weakly. "Cid must be irate."

"None of the little larvae are dead," Red XIII commented, turning his bright and too-human eyes to the trio collapsed together.

"I thought I'd try a new approach," Cloud said, taking a deep breath and rolling his sore shoulders. "I think most folks call it 'jail.'"

The looks that his normally enigmatic friends gave him were of priceless surprise. Cloud fought back the strange and rare urge to laugh at their complete bewilderment.

"I ran into a little problem in that they're pretty heavy," he commented after a moment of silence. "I could use a hand."

"I am no common pack mule," Red XIII huffed.

"They are no common cargo," Vincent replied, shrugging and lifting Loz easily over one shoulder. "Come. The smallest of them will not be too cumbersome on your back. So long as you think he will not be too heavy for you."

The Gi huffed in frustration, shifting, then moved over, ears pinned back in displeasure and a faint snarl showing sharp teeth.

Cloud crouched, carefully, sliding his hands under the slender remnant he found so oddly fascinating. He was significantly lighter than Kadaj, even completely unconscious. He was all lean muscle rather than having the dense swordsman's build of his brother. Cloud almost tossed him over one shoulder, as Vincent had with Loz, but hesitated, watching the remnant's exhausted face. It would make carrying him easier to just hold him in place over a shoulder... But then Cloud wouldn't be able to sneak peeks at his undeniably pretty face as they moved.

"Cloud?" Vincent asked softly.

"Let's go," Cloud replied, straightening and turning his eyes to the descent. "Try not to drop them. They might not make it through the fall."

"Have a little faith," Red XIII rumbled. "I fought a bahamut just now without dropping Cait."

Cloud gave a shadow of a smile, picked his landing spot, easily fifty feet down, and took the first jump. He quietly reveled in the fall, despite knowing that pain would follow when he landed. The long silver hair of his passenger blew gently upwards, tickling over Cloud's cheek lightly. The landing jarred him to the very bone, making him stagger, and almost fall. He kept his feet through sheer force of will. He straightened stiffly, shaking out his injured leg gently with a wince.

From his arms, a very soft chuckle rose, and he glanced down to see the remnant, half awake and gazing at him out of slitted eyes, laughing weakly at his stumble. Cloud rolled his eyes and turned away, hoping that the heat he felt in his face was not so visible to the form in his arms. He shifted the heavy man in his arms slightly, and felt a hand catch on his knit shirt, anchoring there. He didn't object, instead just glancing down at Vincent and Red XIII on their decent before taking the next jump, bracing for impact.

At the base, as though they had been waiting, Reeve stood with a whole host of WRO guards. The WRO was a new organization, but one that Edge desperately needed. When they came to remove the burden of remnants, Cloud handed Yazoo over carefully, letting the guards hook him down to a gurney, securely bound to the flat surface. He caught the remnant's sleepy eyes, and held them until he was in the hospital transport with his brothers.

It wasn't until the transport was long gone and Vincent walked over to check on him that Cloud's knees finally buckled. He was unconscious before he hit the ground. It was only later he learned that he never actually had hit the ground. Vincent had caught him well in time, and taken him back home.

Over the next couple of days, Cloud spent his time trying to catch his breath again. It was strange, he thought, how quickly everything could change.

Denzel's stigma vanished, as did most of Midgar's, washed away in a cleansing rain. Those who weren't healed initially soon learned to jump into the puddles of Aerith's pure waters to wash away their wounds. By the time Cloud woke up, the city was practically stigma-free, and reveling with the freedom of it.

There was no word of what had happened to the remnants. As far as the city was concerned, they might as well have never existed. Cloud touched base with Reeve, but received only simple updates, telling him mildly that they were all still alive, and safely in prison, and then changing the subject to discuss when Cloud would consider coming to work for the WRO. Cloud stopped contacting Reeve about them at all after the fourth job offer. He never got information about what he was really interested in.

Six days after the event, Cloud was working on restarting his delivery business, having finally repaired his battered motorcycle. He was setting up his new filing system when he got the call from Reeve.

"Cloud," the politician gasped. "They've escaped! They're just gone!"

"How many wounded," Cloud sighed, turning to gather his sword.

"None," Reeve said after a moment's pause. "But we've no idea where they went!"

Cloud hesitated, staring at his blade, then shook his head again. He sat back down in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. On the other end of the line, Reeve got impatient, and started calling his name again, as though somehow Cloud had gotten disconnected.

"Not interested," Cloud muttered into the phone after a minute. "Let me know when they kill someone, and I'll get involved."

He hung up before Reeve could argue too loudly. He turned back to restarting his life, only taking a moment to rub his arm where the stigma had once tormented him. Not even a mark remained from the torturous stain. He shrugged away his unease, and went back to work, trying not to wonder too deeply where the remnants had gone, and why they hadn't bothered to murder the ones holding them captive.

It was two nights later that his life changed forever one more time. It was the middle of the night, and he was sitting on the bed in his new little apartment. He'd decided on getting a new place just for himself when Tifa announced that she and Rude would be moving in together. He didn't mind the Turk, and the kids were always welcome to visit, but Mako hearing and rooming with couples historically didn't turn out to be particularly comfortable.

He settled into his new bed, and let out a pleased sigh, closing his eyes lightly. Sleep had come easier to him in the past few days than in all the years before. No longer was he plagued by the what-ifs of the past, where he wondered over and over if he'd made the right choice. He had no doubt he'd been right to spare the three brothers.

Though he wasn't entirely sure when he fell asleep, Cloud knew the moment he awoke. It was when the window opened quietly across the room in the middle of the night, and let in the cool breeze from the outside.

Cloud's eyes were open in a moment, but he didn't move, remaining still on his bed, waiting. He wouldn't put it past some of his less cautious friends to think this a clever prank, and didn't want to over-react unless he really frighten Yuffie. After a moment of pure silence, he could no longer take the quiet, and turned his head slowly.

Piercing green eyes met his own as Yazoo blinked at him from his perch on the window seat.

Cloud was on his feet in moments, glancing over to his sword in panic. The move drew a laugh from the boy daintily settled on his window. The remnant tilted his head gently with the amusement, his silver hair flickering in the dim light from outside.

"What are you doing here?" Cloud snapped, glaring.

"I came to pay you a visit," Yazoo purred softly.

"And why is that," Cloud growled.

"Because you spared my brother," Yazoo whispered, sitting in the window watching Cloud carefully.

"I'm really hoping I'm not about to regret doing that," Cloud said darkly. He glanced down at the remnant's holster and hesitated as he realized it was empty. A glance to Yazoo's face showed him a confident smirk on the remnant's lips. Cloud swallowed, feeling his adrenaline start to ebb.

"We were surprised you didn't hunt us down." Yazoo said, standing up from the window.

Cloud looked him over. He'd never noticed before that the remnant was a hair taller than he himself was. He'd been a little too busy fighting for his life before.

"You didn't kill any guards," Cloud muttered, watching him closely. "It was... out of character. I thought maybe-"

"Maybe we had changed?" Yazoo prompted when Cloud trailed off. "I wouldn't say that, exactly. But we aren't stupid. We know you would destroy us. What we don't know," he stepped forward smoothly, "is why you didn't before."

"It seemed like a waste," Cloud muttered as he watched the slowly approaching young man.

"A waste," Yazoo repeated, a smile curling his perfect lips. "You're cute."

"I-What?" Cloud spluttered, shaking his head briskly.

"You heard me," Yazoo purred, slinking closer a step.

Cloud shifted towards his sword, and the remnant stopped with a put-upon sigh.

"Come now, brother. Surely you don't think you need that with me. As I just said, I know very well you could tear me limb from limb if you cared to, and I value keeping it so that you do not care to. So for one night, forego the sword in leu of a greater need."

"A greater-" Cloud started, shaking his head a little, watching as Yazoo resumed his slow and slinking approach.

"I won't break," Yazoo murmured softly, sliding closer to Cloud from the window. "And you can't lie, brother. I see it in you. You need a release. For a while, we provided that, in the form of opponents. Now, things are different. So I'm here to offer you a different option."

"A different option," Cloud repeated, taking a half step back from his approaching once-nemesis.

"Yes," Yazoo murmured, stepping up before him and tilting his head slowly. "I won't hurt you, brother. I know you don't want to hurt me either. But you do want something."

Cloud shuddered as Yazoo lifted a hand and ran it down his chest. And yet, he didn't step away. There was something mesmerizing about the faint glow of his predatory eyes. He looked almost bored, and yet there was an intensity in his inhuman gaze. When he moved closer, Cloud didn't bother moving away again. Yazoo radiated heat. It felt disturbingly right to be nearer him.

"If this is some sort of strange confession of love-" Cloud started.

"Love doesn't enter into it, brother," Yazoo purred, his lips ghosting over the scar on Cloud's forehead that he himself had left when he shot the sunglasses off his face.

"Stop calling me that," Cloud hissed even as he got his fingers around the zipper of Yazoo's jacket and started pulling, exposing a pale expanse of chest.

"Does it make you uncomfortable?" Yazoo teased lowly, leaning back to arch into Cloud's touch.

"It's gross," Cloud growled, lowering his head to run kisses and sharp bites over Yazoo's collarbones, his hands sliding under his jacket to rake fingernails down Yazoo's sides and back.

"Yes," Yazoo hissed, shifting closer to Cloud's lips. "You seem positively disgusted."

Cloud lifted away from Yazoo's chest to claim his warm, bow-shaped lips in a fierce kiss. That shut Yazoo up for a moment, at least. Long enough for Cloud to find the clasp of Yazoo's pants blindly and thoroughly change the subject.

Yazoo's hands clenched on his back, and stayed there. He held them together through the long evening that followed, his fingers sometimes tense and clawing, and at other moments gentle, sliding lightly down Cloud's back. And though a piece of Cloud's mind remained convinced that those warm hands would stab him in the back any moment now, when he was at his weakest, Cloud pushed the voice aside. The strike never came.

When the two finally lay still together, both breathing hard, Cloud wrapped his arms around Yazoo as well, holding on to the only person who'd really made him feel _free_ in years.

"Told you I wouldn't break," Yazoo purred contentedly, giving a languid stretch at Cloud's side.

Cloud just hummed his agreement, closing his eyes lightly. It had been a very long time.

"Ah," Yazoo said with a soft, light laugh coloring his words. "I see. Sleep well then, my Cloud."

Cloud shuddered at the use of his name. He was reasonably certain it was the first time Yazoo had used it. He curled just a little closer, and fell asleep to the sound of Yazoo's quiet chuckling, and the feel of a slender hand stroking through his hair.

Some time during the night, Cloud felt a light, gentle kiss on his forehead, and a brief shifting. When he opened his eyes, he was alone in bed. There was nothing remaining of his lover but the soft scent of spice that surrounded him, and the warm spot beside him in bed.

He sat up slowly, looking over at the newly opened window. Its curtains blew gently in the breeze sliding inside. Cloud stood stiffly, wincing at the sticky feeling of his skin.

He closed the window lightly, and locked it back in place. He had a feeling that this had been a one-time visit. Or a strange and rather twisted 'thank you.' Yazoo wouldn't be coming back.

Cloud stared at the window a moment, then headed off to take a shower, his mind whirring. By the time he reached the bathroom, the weight of Yazoo's sudden departure had lifted off his chest. It wasn't that Cloud hadn't enjoyed the night, or even that he hadn't hoped it would happen again. It was something much more straight-forward and certain.

Next time, it would be his turn to track Yazoo down.


End file.
